Locked !

A lazy day, went to bed at about 2am then read till 4 ( I wanted to finish the book) It was called the Lewisman by Peter Mae or something. I liked it better than his first ;The Blackhouse (that read too much like my mother's moaning childhood) This one I found more enjoyable but odd as I actually knew who the lady in the pink Merc is and I am well familiar with many of the island's homers and not all of them had such a bad time in fact their lives as homer kids were just as miserable as those of the born and bred island kids !

There was little time for fun and relaxation in a place where you were always battling the elements and trying to grow food from rock ridden soil. I remember as a child lifting the bloody peats, what started as fun for the first 20 mins turned into backbreaking toil after two hours let me tell you! I remember walking home so dammed parched and exhausted then having to tramp off to look for my grandfathers cows who seemed to be at the forefront of island travels as they were almost always in another flaming village! After bringing them home in the summer you milked them outside but in winter they were tied up in the barn. Most were nice beasts but there was one or two mad cows! ones who would wait till your bucket was full then time the perfect kick of flick of her mingin mocket tail which if it didnt land in the bloody pail wheeched you across the lugs!
Then you had to feed the buggers, hay, cobbets, treacle and God knows what else. After that you collected the eggs from the smelly hen house. In the meantime my granny strained the milk, put some by for butter or cheese and the rest we drank (none of that stupid half fat, smei skinned waatery stuff) Aye these were the good old days!

Photo of one of the locks on the Crinan Canal, don't know which number though! (just noticed it says no 6) Taken with my pal's Canon 75 - 300 lens

Have a good blip evening all

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